


Next Contestant

by insanechayne



Series: Magical Song Based One-Shots [5]
Category: Actor RPF, The Boondock Saints RPF
Genre: AU, M/M, Possessive Norman, Sean is a stripper, Young Flanuds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanechayne/pseuds/insanechayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot written for the song Next Contestant by Nickelback (don't judge the fic by the song choice)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next Contestant

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tagging this as an AU, since it's young Flandus, and Sean is working as a stripper, though that could have actually happened since it's Sean Patrick Flanery.  
> Enjoy, regardless.
> 
> The original lyrics have been changed slightly to fit the story. In the original song it refers to the other person as 'her', so I changed that to say 'him' in accordance with the characters.

_I judge by what he’s wearing_

_Just how many heads I’m tearing_

_Off of assholes comin’ onto him_

_Each night seems like it’s getting worse_

Norman looked Sean up and down, his frown deepening at every square inch of flesh the man had showing. A bare torso and mostly showing legs did not a happy Norman make, especially not when that torso and those legs were being checked out by every pair of eyes in the joint.

Sean was shirtless, wearing denim shorts that cut off right about mid-thigh and were much too tight, his hips rolling from side to side in a wave of seduction as he walked slowly around the stripper pole in front of him.

Norman’s shaggy hair fell in his eyes, hiding his anger from those around him, and he made no move to push the bangs or sideburns back. He sipped on his beer, looking quite a lot like a sulky child, and drummed his fingers on the tabletop as he watched Sean dance around the stage in the middle of the bar.

Sean had only been stripping for a few months now, but he’d already become a sensation with the regulars who frequented this particular gay bar, and they ended up bringing their friends, which made Sean a favorite with the owner, too.

Norman and Sean were still attending college, both in the third year of their programs, and had been a steady couple for roughly two years. They’d recently decided to move in together, but had fallen on hard times money-wise. So while Norman took acting and art classes Sean took dance classes, and decided that he would make a lot more money putting the skills he learned in school and his natural good looks to use as a stripper. Norman had reluctantly agreed because he knew they needed the money, but he hated the idea more than he was willing to let on. Every night Sean would be harassed by the customers; he would get hollered at, even touched inappropriately, and though he could easily take care of the problem had he not been working, he wasn’t allowed to hit the patrons while on his shift, and then Norman would have to step up to defend his love’s honor. It was a vicious cycle that Norman no longer wanted to go through, but he escorted Sean to work every night and stayed until his shift was over, regardless.

If Norman was being honest with himself, he did enjoy the show that Sean put on, he just wished that he were getting a private performance in the seclusion of their shared bedroom, rather than having to share the experience with so many prying eyes.

_And I wish he’d take the night off_

_So I don’t have to fight off_

_Every asshole comin’ on to him_

_It happens every night he works_

On three occasions in just the past month, Norman had gone to blows with some fuck or another who had said or done something offensive to Sean and had then been stupid enough to escalate it into physicality. The owner had threatened to have Norman banned from the place, but Sean had stepped up and told the man flat out that if Norman wasn’t allowed to come along with him, then he would be taking his skills elsewhere; luckily, the owner had been smart enough to realize that Sean was his biggest money maker, and he couldn’t afford to lose him.

Every night Norman would beg Sean to take a sick day, and just stay home with him. He’d tried bribery, sex, and pouting, but Sean had won every argument with logic: they needed the money too badly right now for Sean not to work. So Sean continued to get harassed and Norman continued to hate their situation.

_They think they’ll get inside him_

_With every drink they buy him_

_As they all try comin’ onto him_

Norman could see the lust in the men’s eyes as they watched his boyfriend dance on the stage and wrap around that damned pole, and he knew they were all trying to think of one way or another to get into Sean’s pants. A few of them had even offered Sean money for a one-night-stand, but Norman had taken initiative and slammed those doors shut with a swift pop to the mouth of the offender. Sean could strip himself bare and dance for these men, but the only person he was gonna take it from was Norman.

_Each time he bats an eyelash_

_Somebody’s grabbin’ his ass_

_Everyone keeps comin’ onto him_

Sean finished his set, putting a sultry smirk on his face as he waved to the crowd, giving them one last hip rotation before strutting down the stairs that led off-stage. There were many cheers and lewd remarks from the viewers, but Sean paid them no attention, making a beeline for the back booth Norman sat in.

“Hey, baby, that was a real nice set you did tonight. How about you give me a private encore?” A semi-drunk man stood up as Sean passed, reaching a hand out to pinch Sean’s ass cheek through his jeans.

The guy was about average build, but you could tell he was one of those types who thought he was some huge, badass motherfucker. He was even wearing a ratty, white wife-beater and ill-fitting jeans, and had sleeve tattoos running down both of his arms. A diamond stud rested in one earlobe, and a gold chain lay around his neck, most likely hocked.

_Here comes the next contestant_

_Is that your hand on my boyfriend?_

_Is that your hand?_

A red haze flooded Norman’s vision, and before he fully realized what he was doing he was on his feet and walking over to the fucker, beer bottle still in hand.

Sean’s face a flushed pink color, his hands balled into fists, and he struggled to maintain his control. Luckily, before he could throw a punch and get fired, Norman stepped in front of him, almost completely blocking him from view.

“You wanna back the fuck up, buddy?” Norman phrased his statement like a question, but his tone was fierce, with no room for discussion. This guy only had two options now: apologize and walk away or get the shit kicked out of him, and with every second that passed Norman found himself vying for the latter.

_I wish you’d do it again_

_I’ll watch you leave here limping_

_Can’t wait ‘til they get what they deserve_

_This time somebody’s gettin’ hurt_

The stranger grinned, taking a step forward to match Norman’s, their chests nearly touching.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. See, I always get what I want, and what I want is his sweet ass. So run along, fairy boy, and let me get to it.” The guy’s alcohol riddled breath blew in Norman’s face, making him cringe in disgust.

Norman brought the hand that held the bottle up and smashed it against the side of the asshole’s face, making him stagger a few steps to the side.

“Last chance to walk away, you fucking prick, or it’s gonna get real ugly real fast.” Norman snarled, shifting so that he was towering over the guy.

The stranger glared up at Norman, his hand to the side of his face to hold in his blood. He spat on the floor and practically leapt back to his feet, his fist aiming for Norman’s jaw.

Everything seemed to simultaneously slow down and speed up, and in less than three seconds Norman had struck the man’s arm with the side of his right wrist, and then brought that same hand up and into the guy’s throat. The guy sputtered and chocked for a moment, and Norman wanted it to be over right there, but this guy just wouldn’t quit.

“You’re gonna pay for that, faggot.” The guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade.

Norman, for some unfathomable reason, laughed at this drunk and his knife. The guy made a move as if to stab at Norman’s chest, but Norman swiftly dodged the attack, wrapping his arm around the one with the knife; he put the guy into a joint lock, making his arm look a bit like a chicken wing, then deftly snapped the tendons in the drunk’s wrist, causing him to drop the knife and cry out in pain. Norman thrust his elbow back, catching the guy right in the jaw and breaking it instantaneously.

Norman wanted to keep going, wanted to pick up that fucking switchblade and shove it right through the guy’s throat, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him from going any farther. He glanced behind him to see Sean smiling softly, a silent way to say he was proud of him, and to thank him. Norman smiled back before cupping Sean’s jaw and pulling him in for a rough, passionate kiss.

Norman wrapped an arm around Sean’s waist and pulled him close, looking down at the man rolling around in pain on the floor. “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you anymore, babe. Now let’s go home.”

 

_There goes the next contestant_

**Author's Note:**

> Update: Because I have currently started work on my first novel and already have quite a few people supporting me, someone suggested I set up a newsletter about the book.   
> It'd be mostly updates about the writing process, quotes from the book, and in the future updates about publication and when it'll be available for purchase.  
> The newsletter will be a mass email sent out roughly once a week. So if you're interested in being a part of this you can send me an email at chayne43571@gmail.com, where the newsletter will be sent from, or you can message me here or at my tumblr (insanechayne.tumblr.com) with the email address you'd like me to send the letter to.   
> Thank you for your support!


End file.
